


Waiting for a Sign

by Ladiladida



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt, Jealousy, Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, charlotte just beggar off, unacknowkedged feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-08 14:44:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17983079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladiladida/pseuds/Ladiladida
Summary: For over a decade, Robin had learnt the art not betraying all her thoughts through her eyes. But walking in on a intimate moment between Strike and Charlotte put that gift to the test. For Strike, it might at last answer an important question.





	1. Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> Another from me, excuse the spam, I’ve been bit by the writing bug after reading all you guys’ great pieces. There’s nothing really new here, we all know Charlotte and her big oar hasn’t finished with Strike yet. This will lead to smut in upcoming chapters but for now let’s have some angst. 
> 
> It could act as a sort of companion follow up to Glinting Graces.

* * *

_Love is universal migraine,_  
_A bright stain on the vision_  
_Blotting out reason._

_Symptoms of true love_  
_Are leanness, jealousy,_  
_Laggard dawns;_

_Are omens and nightmares -_  
_Listening for a knock,_  
_Waiting for a sign:_

**_Symptoms of Love, Robert Graves_ **

For over a decade, Robin had learnt the art of masking certain feelings, not betraying her thoughts through her eyes. Since the Shacklewell Ripper, she’d refined it to a tea. But now, right now, she couldn’t mask a thing.

There before her, stood close, eyes locked was Charlotte and Strike in his office. His large hands resting on her shoulders, hers on his waist.

There were no kisses or acts beyond this, but that connection, that intimacy screamed all around them. In that moment, Robin felt sick with so many feelings, the ground showing no mercy and wouldn’t swallow her up.

It wasn’t long before Cormoran’s eyes had snapped from Charlotte’s to hers, his pupils dilating and an betraying emotion she couldn’t read. Charlotte’s face had turned more casually towards Robin. That woman knew her power, she didn’t have to consider anyone, yet her eyes were triumphant, despite her soft faux expression.

“I’m sorry...” Robin babbled, anger stifling in her throat, her tears pricking at her eyes threatening to betray her. She knew her face had said it all in that initial shock, but now her survival instinct would kick in. Retreating with as much composure as she could muster, she withdrew to the outer office and sat down. Robin refused to slink off altogether, she had work to do. Yet her fingers shook against the keys and she struggled to type. Her mind whirled and skimmed so much that she couldn’t read anything. So she sat, replaying that image over and over in her mind.

Charlotte was seen out by Strike shortly after, not before giving a seemingly gracious goodbye to Robin. But again those green eyes cast a different light on her tone of voice. Only when her footsteps had all but disappeared did Strike turn and look at Robin. He was hesitant and yet he also seemed hardened somehow as he looked at her. Maybe he was angry as she’d interrupted at a key moment.

“I didn’t realise she was here, I wasn’t sure you were either.” Robin explained coldly, if she couldn’t show her hurt, then she would play numb. Her icy tone showed disapproval, but at least not in the way that she really felt.

“I didn’t expect her to show up here...”

“You didn’t?” Robin blurted harshly, shocking herself and again she saw his eyes darken in surprise. He looked irritated.

“We were meeting for dinner later, not that it’s any...”

“No you’re right,” she snapped, “it’s not.”

She got up and roughly placed some paper work into a drawer of the filing cabinet. Cormoran watched her all the while. As the heavy drawer slammed shut she turned on her heel.

“Do you remember telling me I was well shot of Matthew?”

“A year after you married him? Yes of course I do.” He sounded bitter now, only moments ago he was holding Charlotte. Now he felt vulnerable at Robin levelling accusations of his intentions at him. His reply winded her a little, she looked down for a moment and it seemed strange that she deflated by such words. What seemed to be the start of a blazing row now dwindled and Robin picked up her bag.

“Forget it. You’re right, what the hell has it got to do with me anyway? I’m going to go and tail our Chelsea escort then I’ll head home. Enjoy your evening...” she marched past him towards the door, he moved out of her way as though he had just touched red hot water. Cormoran didn’t want her to leave, but he knew Robin was going. At the last moment, the door half open in her hand, she turned. He swore there was a trace of tears in her eyes, but he couldn’t pinpoint now which part of this interaction had truly done it.

“Just think about it, all this will you.” Her head gestured to the office, “what it all means, because honestly... you’re breaking...”

She stopped for a second and he waited screaming at himself to move forward, to stop her, but he didn’t. Before he did, he needed to hear what she had to say, because he he was wrong then he could ruin it all by taking one step. Robin recovered herself and looking at him square on she finally finished.

“She’ll break your heart.”

That was it, she was gone. Her footsteps receding and the lower door banging. Cormoran stayed fixed to the spot, his awareness of the depths of what had just past washing over him. In that moment, Charlotte even being here moments earlier vanished. Strangely, she didn’t exist.

Robin could cry now, tears slid down her cheeks and she wiped at them angrily. She had almost betrayed herself, she was furious. But no matter her feelings, she knew enough of Charlotte to imagine she could not defeat her. Only Cormoran could give her up, she thought he had, so proud of him that she was. What a world he’d built for himself without her, warts and all. Some failed relationships to be sure but a booming business and self worth. Robin never even considered herself, what she wanted from him beyond their close friendship. If at the very least he was building towards better for himself then she would always be happy. Robin would find a way. Hadn’t she done it, weren’t they doing it side by side? If only it were purely that which stung at her heart just now.

Cormoran watched her disappear down the street, annoyed that he hadn’t stopped her. There could have been explanation enough without disclosing the full truth. But then, teetering on the precipice of that topic was too bone deep for him. Charlotte had been close to him to be sure, there past was a familiar rabbit hole all too tempting to fall back into. Charlotte was trying to pull him back in, but he wasn’t being pulled. Something far more painful was pushing him. For ten minutes he made himself a coffee and downed the hot contents almost masochistically, the roof of his mouth turning a little raw. Then he took out his phone, the error screaming loud in his mind.

“Bluey.” Her voice said with tempting softness. “I hope the poor girl wasn’t too upset. I think we can both see why.”

“This isn’t going to work Charlotte, it can’t.”

“Because of her?”

“No. Because I don’t want it too, not really. It’s true I’d have given the world for you once... but now... I need to extract you from my life like I was doing. No going back.”

“You make me sound like a tumour Bluey.”

There she went, drawing him back. But he wouldn’t falter, that look on Robin’s face so vivid in his mind. Robin cared for him, it might not be in the way he wanted or how Charlotte implied. But she wanted the best for him, like he had been learning to want for himself. If that wasn’t the kind of faith to make him do this, then he wasn’t the man he’d thought he was.

“Try and find a way to be happy Charlotte. I’m not doing this anymore, I’m serious. Whatever it is you want from me, you have no chance of getting it.”

For a moment there was a silence, then she said in an even softer, colder tone.

“You’ll never get what you want either, Bluey, I’ve just seen it for myself.”

With that she hung up. Cormoran felt cold all over and angry. The urge for a drink consumed him and as the smell of Robin’s lingering perfume invaded his senses, he gave way.

 


	2. In a darken room

_For a touch of her fingers_

_In a darkened room,_

_For a searching look._

**Symptoms of Love, Robert Graves**

 

With a misplaced lighter and a windy night, Cormoran impatiently... and rather drunkenly attempted to light his cigarette with some borrowed matches. It was the only time since first entering his local that he’d lifted his scowl. No one would humour his need for a light wearing that. So for an affable thirty seconds he was rewarded by being told to keep the box. When finally achieving ignition, he smoked it quickly like a man starved.

The drink was heavy on his bladder, the four pints taking more of a toll on him than he imagined. He moved back inside to relieve himself, but his mind, well that just kept on talking him in circles. Was it going to be a long term solution getting back together with Charlotte? No. In fact, she’d hardly been in his thoughts. These days, she was just a very effective distraction. A method of consoling what really did seem dangerous, impossible and unwise. Yet a small voice from the back of his mind kept irking him by encouraging the idea that it could also be wonderful. Robin.

Remembering that first time she had found him in the pub, drowning his sorrows for the loss of Charlotte. She’d been kindness itself, a true olive branch of friendship. How he’d give anything for her to walk in the pub right now. Then there was the green dress episode and the way she just saw things, spotted things. Robin’s perceptions always seemed so in sync with his. The more he’d known of her, the more she seemed to be the sort of current that intertwined with his. Robin. Robin. Just Robin.

He was a fucking moron to even consider dinner with Charlotte. He’s said all he’d meant to during the Chiswell case. But she seemed determined to keep him dancing, that’s why she’d arrived before their agreed time. Cormoran knee he’d let her again, never again. Taking out his phone, he scrolled his recent contacts and pressed ring. With no idea of what time it was, he seemed surprised when that familiar female voice sounded groggy.

“Cormoran?” Ilsa said with a yawn, “everything okay?”

“If you don’t include a massive fuck up.”

“You didn’t?”

“I let her walk out the office, Ils. She tried to tell me... and I just let her... ohhh fucking hell.” He groaned.

“You don’t need her Cormoran, how have you not realised that? Things were going great for you, don’t ruin it now. You’re better than that.” Ilsa explained directly without any attempt at giving him a pity party. “Give yourself the self respect that we see in you, that Robin does...”

“That’s my point, she left... she’ll fucking hate me.”

“Who fucking cares what Charlotte thinks...” Ilsa said exasperatedly, then realising her own sleepy error she continued. “Wait, are you talking about Robin?”

“Of course I am.” Cormoran replied, “Charlotte might have been my life once, but the twist in my gut that I’ve got right now... it’s... it’s...”

“I know.” Ilsa softened, the tone helping him as his voice broke uncharacteristically.

“I think... I’m not sure but... maybe...”

“Robin loves you, Nick and I agree on that.” Ilsa said with a light laugh. “We are convinced she has for longer than she realised. But... she was still quicker at seeing the light than you.”

“Oh...” Cormoran groaned in to the phone, “believe me Ils, I’ve known my own part of this for a long fucking time.”

“Then Cormoran, as your friend, I need to say this...”

With that Nick came near the mouth piece, the sound of them both crowding the phone coming down the line.

“Go fucking talk to her now mate!” Nick urged.

“It’s only ten thirty.” Ilsa continued. “If you leave it much longer there’s no...”

“Point taken... thanks...” he did gratefully and he ended the call.

Leaving the pub and walking a little down the street, he hailed a taxi. This was going to be expensive, but it wouldn’t be a patch on the price of losing something greater if he didn’t.

Once absconded in the taxi, vaguely giving Robin’s address, his mind thought over what he was going to say. He drafted it dozens of times as the journey progressed, frequently ignoring or quickly curtailing any attempt by the driver to chat.

Cormoran knew she’d be angry, he knew she’d have doubts after today. But he would show her, prove to her. All she had to do was smile at him, or let him take her hand. It would be enough to build on, he’d take the smallest sign.

That day she told him by the roadside that it was over with Matthew had been one of the best of his life. Even seated in a car with her, he felt at his best. Robin gave him so much confidence in himself that he’d underestimated for a long time. But now, he was on edge, yet she had nearly said it hadn’t she? It couldn’t be too late?

The car slowed and money was exchanged. As Strike emerged from the car, he felt his hands shaking and any Dutch courage he had had evaporated. He’d faced so much in his life, he’d also had very little given that he wanted. To a man with so much taken away, he was terrified. If this was to to end between them now before it had even started, he wasn’t sure he could bear the loss.

Stepping towards the door, he rang the buzzer and waited. For a short time there was no sound, the flat seeming in darkness... it seemed endless to him. Then there was a crackle, his heart lurched and her voice, so sleepy and warm said.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”


	3. Take courage, lover!

_Take courage, lover!_   
_Could you endure such pain_   
_At any hand but hers?_

**Symptoms of Love, Robert Graves**

When Robin opened the door, she was not as Strike had expected. Imagining he had broken her sleep due to the apparent darkness of the flat, he was surprised to find her mid industry. Robin forgot for a moment that she was clad in old velour jogging bottoms and a t shirt. Both were spattered with smears of white paint. There were small flecks on her makeupless face and tied up hair too.

For a moment they stood looking at one another, neither saying a word. Robin looked tired, her eyes held the faintest swelling as though she’d been crying at some point but not very recently. Strike felt drained, but that was nothing compared to the nervousness dancing round his insides.

“I’ve caught you at a... you’re busy.” He said, trying to keep a level tone in his voice. “Sorry...”

Instead of asking him why, though she suddenly seemed irritated, Robin stepped aside to let him in. The smell of fresh paint and cleaning products hung in the air.

“I needed a break, do you want a drink?” She asked, her voice betraying no emotion. This unnerved him.

“A coffee would be great. Thanks.”

For a moment she disappeared and left alone in the sitting room, Strike contemplated whether he should sit. Meanwhile, ensconced in the kitchen, Robin allowed her real emotions to the fore. She had not expected to see him, a phone call after earlier had seemed unlikely let alone face to face. Yet here he was, he wasn’t with Charlotte. Since parting with him, she’d done a lot of thinking. The painting had helped with that, simplistic tasks often helped her thought processes. No matter how angry or upset she was about earlier, she couldn’t deny that she was pleased to see him.

Throwing together two coffees, she returned to the sitting room. He’d barely moved since she’d left him. Robin hadn’t meant to make him feel unwelcome, though she wasn’t his number one fan either.

“Sit down, you idiot.” She said, her voice lightening ever so slightly as she handed him a coffee. Robin took up her place on a chair, not before checking herself for any rogue wet paint. Drawing her legs up, she hugged the mug close to her chest. Cormoran sat on the sofa, deciding his words.

“About earlier...”

“You don’t need to explain...” she cut in, but he ignored her.

“I can’t pretend that if you hadn’t walked in, things may have occurred. But I would have immediately regretted it...” Strike paused for a moment to consider his next words. “I know life has been much better and even simpler without Charlotte. She has a knack of... well anyway, when you left and I saw how angry you were that I was putting myself in that position again...”

“I had no right, it’s your life.” Robin said seriously.

“You’re right it is, but unlike before, I am more aware of the people who care about me... you do... you understand about leaving behind something that’s been a big part of your life...”

“Cormoran...” Robin replied quickly, her cheeks a little pinker. “I don’t really know what you want me to say...”

“Then let me finish, I’m getting to it, I promise... the point is... when I saw that look on your face... and the things you said...”

Cormoran felt his hands shake and he rubbed them down his face, it was now or never.

“I think, I hope anyway, if not tell me to fuck off... but I think there’s a chance you might... you see I like you Robin...”

Now it was Robin whose pupils dilated to saucers, Robin whose cheeks were now pinker than before. It was Robin who looked so lovely in such a state that he wanted to get up and pull her to him.

“I know how much you care about me Cormoran, it’s not like us to properly fight.... it’s forgotten.” She faltered and she rose from the chair to grab biscuits from the kitchen. Anything to give herself a moment to think.

Strike became exasperated, partly that she wasn’t seeing what he was trying to say but also because he wasn’t being clear. Starting up, causing his knee to twinge, he stood in front of her. Robin’s confused face looked up at him. Her wonderful, intelligent and beautiful eyes searching his. With no further thought, though hoping it wouldn’t earn him a punch in the face, he took hold of her waist. The waist he’d imagine holding so many times.

“Robin, I love you.”

He felt her jump beneath his hands, as though he’d given her an electric shock.

“Pardon?” She replied.

“You heard me. I don’t love Charlotte, I have no interest in being in love with her again. It’s a bit fucking difficult to be honest, because when you’re not here, I’m still thinking about you.”

“You are?” Robin said sounding more surprised, cheeks burning and eyes sparkling. Strike carefully pulled her an inch or two closer to him.

“So... I’m interested in what you think.”

“Well...” Robin said at last, a tear creeping into her eye and tumbling down her cheek. “I was bloody furious with you earlier.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed, moving a hand to wipe the tear away with his thumb. He thought about the time when he’d wanted to take her hand when she told him about Matthew and Sarah after her attack. “I mean it though Robin. I love you... I just kept it as controlled as I could because I thought...”

Robin raised herself on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Due to the unexpectedness, she caught the corner of his mouth initially. Within an instant, Cormoran turned his face fully towards her and when he felt her own hands slip about his neck, the fall came. The kiss was fevered and passionate and nothing like either had fantasised about the other.

Robin felt every nerve ending firing with her and her heart seemed to burst and flood her rib cage with relief, love and lust. For Strike, he suddenly had such a feeling of home, it was overwhelming. After a minute or two, he pulled back, bending his head to press his forehead against hers.

“Christ almighty Robin, if you only knew...” his eyes were dark, his voice gravelly.

“You don’t think you’re the only bloody one who’s been impatient for that?”

“I think Nick and Ilsa might have been too.” He laughed and he felt the joy of her laugh ripple through her rib cage. The warmth and softness of her body was enticing and yet he was still only holding her waist, a little tighter all told.

Robin smiled at him, he kissed her again, he couldn’t help himself. This was actually bloody real, nothing was suppressed now.

“I love you too, by the way.” She laughed, “Sorry, I got a bit caught up with what you were saying and then that. But, are you sure?”

“I’ve spent a good while hiding it Robin, trust me, I’m sure.”

“I wish I wasn’t covered in paint, it hardly fits the mood.” She said between the pressure of his lips against hers. “Stay here, I’m just going to jump in the shower...”

“Alright.” He said thickly, reluctant to let her go. But he did and as she left the room he was determined he would use all his energy to show her how it was to be properly loved. And Cormoran would show her in every sense of the word. It had taken a long time, but he’d found it. Leda had been right all along.


	4. With her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No poetry required here 😂

His blood was molten lava, his heart was pounding, his body on fire. Cormoran’s senses were so heightened, he felt more alive in this moment than he had in a long time. Robin’s panting was flooding his ears, the only thing over turning the sound of pounding blood. He could feel the goosebumps puckering the skin of her thighs and the muscles beneath slowly relaxing after tightening. She smelt of shampoo, jasmine and sex, she was heavenly. Looking up at her, past the creamy skin of her abdomen, the swell of her breasts that rose and fell quickly and up to her closed eyes. Her damp hair, the hair he so casually pulled free of the turby towel she had been wearing was splayed around her head. It was a rose gold halo, messy but shimmering in the lamp light. 

Cormoran hadn’t meant to be quite so dominant the first time he was able to peel away whatever kept her from him. But when that smell of freshly washed skin and just... Robin came from the adjoining room, he snapped. The kiss had started it... but as always, the scent of her, that delirious aroma of her intoxicated him. Initially he’d just stood in the bedroom doorway, watching her rub raw coconut oil on her legs, giving them a sheen. But when she had spotted him standing there, the foot resting on the mattress returned to the floor. Robin turned fully to face him, wrapped in a soft white towel and almost immediately and somewhat wantonly, she let it drop to the floor. A look so full of dark desire in her eyes, a look she’d never given him before. 

Then he’d moved, took hold of her and with all the love he felt and the pent up frustration of needing her for so long, he’d devoured her. He’d acted like a ravenous bastard, disappearing between her thighs and driving her to the likes heaven like he imagined she’d never experienced. It didn’t matter how much his groin ached painfully as she writhed and cried his name as his tongue worked her to oblivion. It was the need to show her that he adored her, desired her and that they could come apart together. 

He heard Robin murmur is name and he saw her eyes open. Crawling up the bed to her, his arms went about her and his lips seized her. Cormoran was still frenzied with need for her, but so happy that she’d let him in, let him be with her. What a contrast they were, she limp and glowing, eyes bright and shining... and she was completely naked. He was coarse and clothed, eyes dark and body on fire. Desperate for her, but he’d wait for her. He loved her. 

Recovering, Robin insistently began undoing the buttons on his shirt and pushed the fabric from his shoulders. 

“I love you.” She murmured. 

Those hands, now all the more confident, took possession of his naked upper half, yanking him to her, feeling his burning skin against hers. 

“Christ, Robin.” He growled against her lips, his body feeling like it was fevered. Their eyes met, locked together and any worries concerning Charlotte or whether this was a good idea had been long banished. Robin had kissed him, Robin’s insistent hands were all over him, undressing him. The scent of her was all around him, she had released herself at his hands. She trusted him, wanted him, loved him.

Robin’s hands went to the buckle of his belt and soon he was as naked as she was. Helping him remove his prosthetic, it was placed by the bed before Robin pulled Strike on top of her. 

Cormoran rested his weight on his forearms, their faces close. Robin slowly grinding her hips against him in a way that made him groan. One hand stroked some tendrils of hair from her face before his lips crushed to hers again. This was it, he’d arrived, true happiness. The last few parts of her held from him now close, her feelings for him and now this intimacy. Cormoran never felt such a lucky, privileged bastard in all his life. But that was to be the last coherent thought for a while, need and instinct took over. He had Robin and he was dying to be lost with her.


End file.
